


Thranduil One Shot

by QuothTheRaven_Nevermore



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M, Short One Shot, legolas is in it for half a second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore/pseuds/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dwarves left you in Mirkwood after they escaped, leaving you to face an angry Thranduil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thranduil One Shot

You sit in your cell, waiting. You look around once again at the small room you've been put in. There's nothing too spectacular about it. Bare walls, bars on the door, just like any other prison. A small distance away, you can faintly hear two people talking in elvish. You braid and unbraid your hair to pass the time. Legolas, the prince, walks by your cell without so much as a glance. You watch him go, if only to have something to look at besides the walls. He walks, a somewhat annoyed expression on his face. You briefly wonder why, but then shrug. It's not your business anyway. The dwarves are all gone. They escaped, deciding that it would be safer for you if you stayed in the castle. You protested, arguing that you were just a good as fighter as they were. They said that the king wouldn't harm you because you were an elf, and not a dwarf like them, making it even more safe for you here. And off they went to fight a dragon, leaving you alone and annoyed. As you sit and untangle your braid, you yawn. Your exhaustion from everything that had happened in the last few days catches up with you and you rest your head back against the stone wall and you sleep.

It's the sound of the doors opening that wakes you. You blink, trying to adjust your eyes. When you do, you see two very angry looking guards at your door. You sit up alert. What could you have done to make them angry at you? All you did was sleep. "Get up," one commands. You do as you're told and they grab one of your arms. They lead you down corridors and halls that twist and turn every which way. Eventually, you come to a large set of doors. They open and you feel dread fill you up as you see where you are. You're in the kings throne room. His expression is one of anger and accusation. Once the guards let you go, they bow and leave the room. It's just you and the king. He's spoken to you occasionally when he walks by your cell, but it is never more than a passing remark about dwarves. Thranduil looks you up and down, inspecting you thoroughly. 

"The dwarves are foolish," he says.

You say nothing, although a surge of anger courses through you at the insult directed at the closest people you have to a family.

Thranduil continues, "They would risk waking Smaug and bringing fire and ruin upon us all, for the sake of gold they claim is their birthright."

You knew of this. Of the dragon that resided in the mountain. Ever since the dwarves had told the tale, you had been hesitant about going to the mountain. You were old, much older than any of the dwarves, and you knew about a dragon's fire and the damage it could cause. Pain and fear struck your heart as you remembered how your family had died so many years ago because of a dragon. But you also knew that the dwarves had had their home taken from them, and now they were doing all they could to find a new one. But still, your family's screams echoed in your head as you looked at the king.

"But not you," he says as he looks at you. "You're not a dwarf at all."

You shake your head, "No. I am an elf. One of your own kind."

"Then why are you traveling with them? Why would you endanger us all, only for the quest of a group of selfish elves and their lust for gold?" He glares at you, "You ignorant elf, you have no idea what dragons will do to everyone! What they're probably doing to the people of the town right now! You've no idea what danger you've put these people, my people in. All because you were a little elf who thought that they could play with fire."

"Do not assume thing about me," you practically shout at the king, thinking of your family. You know that it's foolish to shout at the king who's jail you're being kept in, but you don't care. "Do not think that I have not seen what the fire of dragons can do!"

He stares at you silently. There's an expression on his face that is a mixture of surprise and realization. You look down at your arm, which is where his gaze is fixed. It looks like the skin has been burned away, which it had been, many years ago. There is muscle showing in more than a few places, tendons and flesh exposed for everyone that looks to see. When you had tried to save your family, you had also been burned. Thranduil steps down from his throne and gently picks up your hand. You want to rip it away from his, but you cannot bring yourself to. He runs his finger along your arm, causing a shiver to go through you. "You've been burned before," he says, more to himself than to you.

"My family," you say, "I tried saving them."

He nods. "I too know how unmerciful this fire can be," he tells you.

Before you can ask what he means, you see for yourself. The skin from the kings face changes, the skin melts away, revealing massive burns underneath. At your expression, he looks away, ashamed. You tentatively bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly. "You're still beautiful," you murmur, surprising yourself as much as the king. He stiffens and you draw you hand back, fearing that you have offended him. You try to apologize, stuttering because you've got no idea how you're going to get yourself out of this one. 

"Uh-uh," you stutter, searching for words, "What I meant to say was that-that you still look very royal."

A smile crosses the kings face, the first smile you've ever seen from him. It looks beautiful on his features, turning them from the mask of cold indifference to one of warmth and amusement. "As are you," he says.

His hand comes up to your face and he takes a step closer to you. Softly, his lips touch yours. It only takes a fraction of a second for you to return the gesture with just as much emotion. It's a sweet embrace, full of passion and tenderness, leaving you both wanting more. Thranduil pulls away, a small smile playing about his face. One of his hands still hold yours, and he doesn't seem determined to let it go anytime soon.

You smile at him, then kiss him softly again, causing his smile to grow. Maybe the dwarves leaving you here wasn't so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is my first one shot, so I apologize if it sucked. But I you liked it anyway. :)


End file.
